Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  “Sleep well, Ms. Jenkins.”

  “Good night, Mr. King.”

  CHAPTER 2

  A ccording to Julian’s mother, Samara only gave them two weeks. A ridiculous time line, but she had been uncompromising. A trait, he himself admired. However, the clock was ticking and the stress was mounting to get the hotel back on its feet.

  His office door opened and shut. Samara’s soft foot falls sounded in the small room.

  “Your report?” he asked her as he continued to stare at the computer screen. He’d slept terribly and currently it felt like tiny elves had taken their picks to his eye balls.

  Visions of Samara’s abundant curves tortured him all night, and as he lifted his head to face her, the flesh and blood version of his dreams assailed him. She wore a knee length cotton skirt that swished around her shapely calves and a white top that exposed the creamy slopes of her full breasts, haunting him once again.

  Didn’t the woman own a poncho she could throw on?

  “Here it is.” She slid the papers along the desk toward him.

  There was more than he’d expected considering he’d only given her a night and she would be jetlagged. Graphs, estimates, color schemes, details upon details.

  “Thank you. You can go now.”

  “Go, where?”

  “Anywhere you like. I need a minute to go over your suggestions.”

  He picked up the report, focusing on the words as he waited for her and her floral perfume cloud to leave. He reached the end of the third page and she was still casting a shadow over him. “Did you need something else, Ms. Jenkins?”

  She didn’t respond and he sighed, reluctantly glancing up at her again. She had her arms crossed over her chest which caused her small cleavage to deepen above her white top.

  Arousal flourished in his belly, hot and sharp.

  He pushed himself back in his chair and suppressed the deep groan that rose in his throat. Her appeal was so different to anything else he’d experienced before. She wore no push up bras or designer dresses. Comfortable and casual, the opposite of sexy. Yet, the image of pulling her across the desk and undressing her with his teeth danced across his mind.

  “Your family hired me to do what I can to fix the hotel. Why am I being pushed out of the loop? Can I start training staff, hiring professional decorators, and generally kicking ass?”

  He admired her spunk, but after everything he’d been through with his manager recently, he needed to get one thing clear first. There was a hierarchy in every business and he sat at the top of this pyramid, paying her salary. His parents had handed over the reins to the company two years ago, and although they’d lost faith in his ability to run things, he wouldn’t have any of his contractors feeling the same way.

  “Number one, I look forward to seeing you get started, however, I need to have a look at your proposals first. And number two. I didn’t hire you, my parents did, without my permission.”

  Her eyebrows rose comically high on her pretty face. “Your permission? Aren’t they the parents and you the child? Why would they need your say so to make decisions about their hotel?”

  With deliberate slowness he stood, leaning on the desk with both palms flat to the mahogany. His heart pumped louder in his ears, his arms trembling where he pressed them hard into the wood. He clung to his control because he knew Samara had no idea of the turmoil he was in. How his pride had been pricked when his mother hired Samara to help him, rather than allowing him to prove his worth on his own. But that didn’t mean she could question him in such a way.

  “I am the sole director of my family’s hotels, my parents mere stock holders. You appear to be a appropriate choice for consultant, however I’ll be calling the shots”

  “That seems like a waste of my talents and considering the deadlines we’re under, a huge waste of time.”

  Although he agreed with her in principal, he wasn’t being hurried into any decisions by her. “Pardon me?”

  “If I have to go through you every time I need to make a decision, we will never get this hotel back to the state it deserves.”

  “You will defer to me in all decisions. You have no power here, Samara.”

  “Then what do you suggest, Julian?”

  His fingers curled into tight fists on the desk, blood pounding through his veins. He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. “Give me an hour to look over what you’ve put together, and then we’ll meet and I’ll tell you what is to be done. My parents are paying you a very large fee to be here and assist me, and I suggest you remember that.”

  He didn’t like the fact that she was here, but overnight he’d decided that he would use her as he did all contractors, all employees. To assist him to do his job. She was here to help, and he’d make sure she earned every penny. In the end, though, he’d reap the rewards.

  She nodded and left.

  The triumph he expected to feel was missing as she took what warmth there was in the room with her. He sat back down in his large, leather director’s chair and poured over the graphs and information she’d put together. By the end of his reading he was more than impressed with the plan.

  However, he was the one his parents had solely blamed for the collapse of their string of hotels, it was on his shoulders to fix everything that was done. In her report, Samara had concentrated far too much on the appearance of the hotel and he was going to cut that back. Focus on the service. That’s why people came to expensive hotels in the first place.

  A knock sounded on the door and she stepped into his office, clipboard and pen in hand. “Are you ready for our meeting?”

  Very ready. Although I’d prefer if you wore a kaftan. “Yes. Sit.”

  She strode in and sat in the chair opposite him, her knees together, her spine ram rod straight and her pen poised.

  “A lot of your recommendations have merit.” He put the papers out on the desk, gratified by his red penned circles and many crossings out. “I want you to focus on re-training the staff, hiring more people, including three new assistant managers, and putting lots of check lists in place. When you leave in thirteen days, the staff need to have a detailed systems and operational manual.”

  She looked down at the mess he’d made of her carefully laid out notes with a furrowed brow. “You want to ignore all the decorative changes I suggested?” Her tone was strained, and confused.

  “Not all of them, but we need to focus on the running of the hotel before worrying about aesthetics.”

  She bit her lip and shuffled in her chair, the debate going on in her head obvious by the flickering in her eyes and her lips going up and down. “I disagree.”

  “Tell me why.”

  She tapped the pen against the clipboard, reminding him of a school teacher he’d once had at boarding school. She’d been young and beautiful too. The object of his fantasies for many years.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong, Julian. I can understand if you want to pull back on the number of rooms to re-decorate, perhaps focusing on a dozen suites to start with would be better, but ignoring the room updates completely is like…eating organic fruit and vegetables while dressing like a homeless person. No one’s going to see the good that’s beneath.”

  He struggled not to smile at her analogy. Her spark was back and he was relieved to see it. He liked a healthy debate every day of the week over blind submission. “We have a deadline of two weeks. I don’t think what you have planned is possible in such a short space of time.”

  She slid to the edge of her chair. “I do. It wouldn’t take much to get a local stylist in, or hire some girls to run and buy everything I need. The rooms need a lift, paint, new sheets and some choice décor pieces. Nothing flash. It can be done cheaply and quickly.”

  The light in her eyes was back and she was grabbing the clip board like she would squeeze the life out of it. He liked her drive and excitement, and he was starting to see what could be possible if they both worked theirs hearts out over the next two weeks.

>   “You seem very confident, Samara.”

  “I am. I’ve built a business on my ability to multi task and see the big picture. I appreciate the time line that I have imposed, but I think we can accomplish it all in the time. Prettying up the hotel is the easy part, hiring and firing staff is always the hardest.”

  “But you’re up for the job?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He regarded her as covertly as possible. She had guts, that was for sure. He was the one who had to fix this, but all directors needed an assistant and that was how he needed to see her. She wouldn’t thrive well under a tight leash. So he’d give her some rope. Hopefully she wouldn’t hang herself with it. “All right. I will give you a budget and a company credit card. Any large purchases or decisions you make must go through me, but for minor things, you may do as you feel is right. My parents have assured me you will help clean up this mess and I am very interested in seeing you try.”

  She gave him a huge grin that hit him right in the chest, a long dead place where some happiness used to flutter. He stood up to stretch it out. He’d obviously overworked at the gym.

  He pulled out his business card. “Here’s my personal cell number. I already have yours in my phone. I’ll be interviewing several contractors today to do some repair work to the hotel, and the local employment agency are sending over applicants for the chef, assistant manager, and bar staff positions. Can you handle the cleaners and younger clerical staff?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her and her mouth grew thin as she drew her clipboard to her chest. “Of course I can. I’ll get on the redecorating. Once the cleaners have thoroughly aired out the hotel, it’s time to give it a proper face lift.”

  He didn’t want her enthusiasm to brighten him up. His long-standing depression was a comfort to cling to. But it was hard to completely extinguish the flames that licked at his heart. Samara had an aura, an energy to her, that he hadn’t experienced before. Not in all his years at school, business, or travel.

  However, this hotel was still in deep trouble and they had to sink millions of dollars into it before it was anywhere near presentable again. The thought pulled him back down to where he should be.

  “Better get to work then.”

  He nodded in dismissal and she grabbed for his business card. “Thanks for this. It’ll make things much easier when I need you. See you later, Julian.”

  He could have sworn there was a smirk on her lips as she twirled around and waltzed out the door. As soon as she was gone, he let the smile that had been cowering in a corner of his mind spread across his face. This woman was exactly what he needed. For his hotel and his bed.

  She was bright and sparkly, full of energy, and intelligence too. After the work was done, he’d pull her into his bed and use that enthusiasm for something a bit more fun. Then he’d send her home and return to his parents with the hotel back on its feet. He’d show them that he’d been the right choice to run the company. He may have let his personal relationships dampen his focus once, but he wouldn’t let it happen again.

  JULIAN STEPPED into the humid Hawaiian sun and headed for the back of the hotel where he’d been told Samara would be. He shook his head and let out a long sigh as he stepped up to the huge, industrial sized garbage area.

  Where else would he expect to find his ludicrously expensive consultant, than up to her elbows in musty mattress’s, gag-able pillows, and soiled linen?

  The cloud of stench wafted toward him even stronger than the heat that beat down on his head. He stood a few feet away from the staff and the bags of hotel accommodation they were entrenched in. Why wasn’t she inside organizing people?

  “You haven’t answered your phone,” he yelled into the mattress pile.

  Samara’s head popped up from behind a pile of stained pillows, her sun streaked hair plastered to her red, sweaty face. “Oh, sorry. I probably have it on silent.” She stood up properly and stretched her back, the sun accentuating the healthy glow of her skin. “We’ve cleaned out all twelve of the suites that are being renovated though.”

  She gave him that characteristically happy smile that reminded him of the girls he knew when he’d been at university. Full of fun, before life grew too serious. It was un-nerving how she’d maintained that look despite her older years. What was she, twenty-nine, thirty?

  He regarded the dozens of mattresses piled up near the industrial sized bins. “I can see that. But I needed you.”

  “You needed me? Oh, I’m sorry. What for?”

  “Staff have arrived to be interviewed and I’m busy with the contractors.” He probably could have handled the interviews, but after choosing a true vulture as his own replacement in his business two years ago, he found his confidence severely lacking.

  “Oh great.” She turned to the three women and two men outside in the heat with her. “Keep bagging up the sheets and pillows. Someone from a local charity should be here within the hour to collect everything. Then go straight back to the suites and start vacuuming the floors. Again.”

  They murmured their agreement, their breathing laboring from the hard work they were quite obviously not used to doing. “Thanks guys!” She gave them one of her sunny smiles and walked over to him, having changed from her casual skirt and tank into an outfit designed for cleaning.

  Samara wiped her hands on her old T-shirt and sweat pants that had holes in them. If his mother could only see her expensive expert now.

  “I’m ready, and cannot wait to get more cleaners assigned. Those rooms are absolutely filthy.” She swiped a strand of hair back from her face with her dirty hand and wiped a black mark into her forehead, running into her hairline.

  “You’ve got a smudge on your face.”

  “Oh, thanks. I can imagine I do.” She lifted her other hand and started wiping at her skin, making an even worse mess of herself.

  “Here.” He pulled his white handkerchief out of his pocket and lifted one hand to tilt her face up. She stilled when he touched her chin, but didn’t move as he wiped at the mark near her hair line. She was hot beneath his finger-tips. Up close her skin seemed even more flawless than he’d first thought.

  Awareness fluttered in his skin, tingling up his arms and curling inside his chest. Her breathing rate had increased and she wasn’t moving. Only the up and down fall of her plump breasts made him think that she was as affected by his presence as he was to hers.

  Once he’d finished cleaning her beautiful face, he let their eyes meet. The heat flared. She could sense him too.

  “Th…anks.”

  This time, her smile was tiny, but the look in her eyes was what he wanted to see. That awareness of him as a man.

  “Ok.” She blew out a breath, and took a step back from him. “Let’s go.”

  She took another quick step away from him and he didn’t move.

  “You’re going to speak to them like that?” he asked her.

  She was dressed worse than a local cleaner, and she smelled a bit like one too. A strange combination of eucalyptus and antiseptic. It tickled his throat, and yet she still reminded him of an Amazon woman, about to take on the whole rainforest all by herself. Strong and confident.

  “Of course. What do you think they’ll look like every day they work here?” She tilted her head and indicated they should go inside.

  He followed behind, letting his eyes enjoy the pert bum and shake of her hips as she sashayed inside his hotel.

  The air conditioning, which had blessedly been turned up since Samara complained to the bell boy last night, hit him in the face and he inhaled sharply. Samara didn’t miss a beat, bee lining for the front entrance where twenty people milled around, waiting for her. She clapped her hands and stood at the base of the long spiral stair case. Obviously, she intended to walk them through the floors she wanted cleaned.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this will be a group interview today. I’m going to show you the rooms we will be cleaning, renovating, and then maintaining their new standard in the years to
come. I will also have five places for clerks and bell boys, so if anyone wants to apply for those positions, please hang around afterwards to speak to me about what that will entail. This hotel is about to undergo a massive face lift and you will be very proud to work here. So please, follow me and I’ll show you the first suite.”

  She took off up the stairs and the group jumped to follow. Julian stood in the foyer and watched her go, marveling at the fact that despite the holey pants and ragged shirt, Samara had the power of presence to pull them all into the tour and interview. Not one person lagged behind. He turned away, hating the fact that his mother had been right. They had a long way to go, but if she continued at this pace for the whole two weeks, they’d have the hotel ready sooner than planned.

  SAMARA FELL face first onto her king-sized bed, the weight of a dozen bedframes piled on her spine. Right between her shoulder blades, prickling and cramping the muscles with painful spasms.

  If she’d been smart, she would have waited a few days for extra help, but no, she’d wanted to prove to Julian that she could do everything she’d proposed in her time frame. Another, not so bright idea of hers. Two weeks only, to get this whole job done. She’d definitely let her ego talk her into that one.

  She moaned into the mattress. A hot shower was needed before she went to sleep, but now that she had stopped—finally—she didn’t want to move.

  Get up, or you won’t be able to do anything tomorrow.

  Grunting and groaning, she managed to push both hands into the mattress and get herself vertical. Her back screamed and her feet pulsed, but she staggered to the shower, undressed, and stepped beneath the hot water.

  “Ahhhh…” Heated pressure beat down onto her head and back, washing away the stink of the day. She liked to work hard, but she’d rarely needed to do so much physical lifting. Pride had pushed her to prove herself capable on every level, and she was paying for it now. And they were only two days in.